NEW YORK — Italian designer and architect Gaetano Pesce is known for his wry sense of humor. As I enter his SoHo studio, for example, he greets me not with “Hello,” but, “Janelle, do you know what ‘janela’ means in Brazil?”

“Window?” I say.

“Very good,” he says. (I’ve heard this one before.)

Jokes aside, Pesce is also known to be irreverent, highly imaginative, and polemically thought-provoking. A pioneer in experimental materials, he carved a niche for himself molding resins, plastics, and polyurethane foams into unusual — and sometimes provocative — forms: His voluptuous foam 1969 Up5 chair with attached spherical ottoman served as commentary on women’s rights, the curvy seat being tethered to a symbolic (yet comfortable) ball and chain. His 1988 Vesuvio coffeemaker is shaped like an erupting volcano, just because. And the warped form and swirling colors of the 1984 Pratt chair (No. 3), made from a groundbreaking method of mold-injecting resin, is at home in the MoMA’s permanent design collection.

His studio on Broadway is filled floor to ceiling with four decades’ worth of vibrantly colored, irregularly shaped objects. Sitting on a plush Notturno a New York, a night skyline-shaped Piero Lissoni sofa inspired by Pesce’s own 1980 Tramonto a New York, he discussed his latest show, “Six Tables on Water.” The exhibition of ocean-, lake-, and lagoon-shaped tables, crafted in hues of cerulean and turquoise and detailed with removable plants, landforms, and piers, opens in London’s David Gill Galleries on October 4. In our wide-ranging conversation on his latest project — which he thinks of as a commentary on the preservation of our most vital global resource — Pesce also discussed with us New York’s station as the center of the universe, and why architecture has yet to arrive in the 21st century. 

For the majority of your career, liquid resin has been your signature material. Were its fluid qualities the inspiration for this collection?

I must say that they have very little to do with the nature of the material. I’m trying to make people understand that it’s not only that the object has to be functional and practical, but it also has to be capable of sending questions out, like art. Art is always a question of reality. I believe design and objects have this capacity. More, in a certain way, that traditional art, because they go out and touch everbody once they’re in production.

We have to care about water. It’s a very important element for life. Our rivers are polluted, and so the tables talk about this. And people can use them. As you can see there are certain reliefs on the table, but they are removable when someone needs a flat surface. When they don’t, the reliefs send a message.

While the appearance of the tables sends a message of sustainability, aren’t you also capable of sending this message by using more sustainable materials?  

First of all, if I can use a material, that means the material is not dangerous. I always answer these kinds of questions. If we didn’t use electricity because it was very dangerous, the world would be a very poor place. I say the same thing about my materials. Everything we don’t use in the right way it can be dangerous. My materials come naturally from the soil, oil, et cetera, and I try to use them in the proper way.

You primary manufacturers — B&B Italia, Cassina, and Vitra, for example — are all based in Europe. You’ve also said in the past that you hate staying in one place. What has kept you based in New York, then, for more than three decades?